“Inside, the entry level living room is sprawling and bright, and opens onto the outdoor patio, so if your teenager comes downstairs one night to show you a brochure for the expensive art college he wants to go to where they don’t give grades or degrees, you can take the brochure, walk outside, and throw it over the hedge into the neighbor’s firepit.”

This stunning Georgetown home is one of those picturesque houses that, when you’re strolling through Georgetown with your significant other, make you stop and gaze up in admiration and envy, until a concealed speaker crackles to life and a security guard says, “move along or we’ll dispatch personnel.” Harsh, yes, but you’d be possessive too if you lived here. As you can see, the house has the ultimate urban luxury; ground-floor front-of-the-house parking. Keeping this part of your house as a garage basically tells people that you’re willing to sacrifice a quarter million dollars of house value to save yourself a five minute walk. (Major bonus points if you don’t even own a car and just use it to store rolls of paper towels and huge jars of mayonnaise from Costco.)

Inside, the entry level living room is sprawling and bright, and opens onto the outdoor patio, so if your teenager comes downstairs one night to show you a brochure for the expensive art college he wants to go to where they don’t give grades or degrees, you can take the brochure, walk outside, and throw it over the hedge into the neighbor’s firepit. Upstairs, the main level of the house is blindingly, uniformly white; if you go more than three days without dusting and mopping, it’ll look like a Dickensian poorhouse. The kitchen is gorgeous, and looks to be sculpted out of a single massive block of white marble. It features all the top-of-the-line stainless steel restaurant-grade appliances you’d expect in a place like this; if you don’t cook, it won’t take long for the sheer magnificence of this kitchen to shame you into at least trying. (Or hiring a live-in chef.)

Through the kitchen is the family room, which is oriented around a huge gas fireplace that looks like it could be used as a furnace in a steel mill. When you buy new furniture it’s going to be mighty tempting to try and feed the old sofa and chairs into the roaring gas flames instead of lugging them out to the curb. (Pro tip: don’t.) The family room opens onto an outdoor deck that features amazing views of Virginia across the river, a view that’s enjoyable mostly because it reminds you that you aren’t in Virginia. Upstairs, the master bedroom is a high-ceilinged affair with a huge floor-to-ceiling sunrise-shaped picture window. The window looks right out on the bridge, so if you and your partner share a fetish for utilitarian municipal architecture, this is the bedroom for you. (“Mmm, those buttresses are so sturdy …”) The master bath is roomy and, like the rest of the house, uniformly white. There are twin side-by-side basins and a deep soaking tub that you could cannonball into. The huge steam shower also has two entrances, one on each side of the tub, so you and your spouse could be all cute like, “see you in there,” and then after they drop their towel and walk through their door, you can quickly run downstairs, get dressed, and drive to your divorce attorney’s office.

Outside is the aforementioned rear patio, which sports high green walls and is large enough to accommodate a few dozen people. It’s one of three, yes three, outdoor spaces, along with the second-level patio, and a rooftop deck. The view from the roof is truly spectacular; on a clear night it seems like you can reach out and touch Virginia, or at least shoot a few bottle rockets into it at 4AM, which I strongly encourage you to do.